Harry Potter and the Powers of Heaven and Hell
by Emperor Vanquest
Summary: Synopsis: Harry Potter, fresh off defeating Voldemort, vanishes in a raging inferno of Green Hellfire. Thought dead, his friends carry and the timeline changes. History will never be the same, so why should the Master of Death abide by the former constraints that would have seen him miserable? Maybe this "death" is his chance to live. Same Sex & Het. pairings in later chapters.


Harry Potter x Disney (Villains)

**Synopsis:** Harry Potter, fresh off defeating Voldemort, vanishes in a raging inferno of Green Hellfire. Thought dead, his friends carry and the timeline changes. History will never be the same, so why should the Master of Death abide by the former constraints that would have seen him miserable? Maybe this "death" is his chance to live.

This story will either contain active Slash, or passive references to SS Couples, or perhaps have an OC of same gendered attraction mentioned in a supporting role. There is heavy cursing in this drabble, and it may contain crack.

**Chapter Setting:** Earth, The Enchanted Lands.

**Characters:** Harry Potter, Disney Villains, O/C.

**Disclaimer:** No profit is sought, or accepted, in the publication of this fanfiction. It is purely being written and shared for enjoyment; no remunerations are accepted or expected by the author. All right, privileges, and copyrights belong to their respective holders/owners. I freely admit to having been on a Harry Potter x Crossover kick the last few months, and will try to give special thanks to authors who inspired me on my bio page. Until then, however, if you see something similar too another author of this genre, please point it out to me and I will check my notes as to whether or not I could have accidentally modeled my characters, names, places, events after another.

This story is without a Beta; I am open to receiving a Beta. :-)

Please enjoy and review with your comments, critiques.

**Chapter 01. - Battle Fatigue**

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Harry, bleeding and sweating, leaned against the crumbing wall that had once been an ornate window overlooking the south lawn of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Voldemort had just made his final barter to the Light Side….that the battle was to cease, the dead were to be gathered, and in 3 hours time Harry was to turn himself over to Voldemort willingly or all would die.

The ancient defenses, long lauded and respected, of the school had long since fallen; they'd given way to the combination of Voldemort and his ally's sheer power, but also the invaluable aid the Elder Wand no doubt provided.

A warm pulse and heat emanated from the ring on his left hand…the ring which had cost Dumbledore his life…the ring which had at one point held a portion of the Dark Lord's Soul….the ring which even now seemed to emanate whispers of voices faintly enough that Harry recognized voices of the dead.

He chose to ignore the alarming meaning behind the voices increasing in volume after Voldemort made his offer.

Wearily, he pushed away from the wall and began marching toward the great hall, occasionally having to levitate large chunks of masonry and stones from the destroyed castle from his path.

He chose not to dwell on the occasionally crushed form of the occasional student….he chose to march on, and a rage unlike any he'd experienced before began to ignite in his very soul.

An unearthly green light began to shine from his eyes as he cleared a path and came upon a corridor of young girls which had been savaged and ripped to shreds by weres as he neared the grand staircase.

The tips of his hair actually seemed to catch alight with green fire and the air distorted and warped from the heat.

He found himself at a crossroads, figuratively and literally.

He could go on and in three more corridors be present in the Great Hall with his grieving friends…or he double back, take the open corridor to the Old Keep, and exit to the Great Lawn where Voldemort's forces were kept.

_Now shall you deal with me oh Prince! And All The Powers of HELL!_

Harry startled at the ghostly words before something began tugging at his very soul, and he was compelled to follow the voice.

An evil cackle that normally would have caused him to heighten his alert met his ears…but instead of inducing fear, it lured him to the hope of _power_.

The resurrection stone began to glow the same otherworldly green and pulse in time with the voice which seemingly reached clearly across the voice of life and death to communicate with Harry.

A pain began to pierce his head about his temple, but as soon as it had come, with sharp stabbing throbs, it had disappeared.

More blood began to trickle from Harry's face as his curious hands found the nubs of horns beginning to emerge from his scalp and rapidly grow.

Stunned, but not deterred he continued along the path laid before him and the voice continued to speak.

_It's incredible! Sixteen years and no trace of her….. she couldn't have vanished into thin air! _

_Have you searched the mountains, towns, and houses?! _

Harry donned the cloak of invisibility, and was shocked to feel the magic of the item rush into him….merging with the power of the ring which was already seeping into him, and as the cloak fell, smoking in green puffs, he passed a mirror and noted he was completely invisible.

Fascinated with the ability he seemed to have gained and somewhat surprised to see the heirloom burning in a small green fire, Harry was unprepared to suddenly become visible before the mirror and was greatly concerned to note the horns were now absolutely massive curling and twisting and only highlighting the fate he knew awaited him.

In his heart he knew he was destined to be damned by Voldemort, and with a resigned sigh recalling the horrors he'd seen….he embraced the devil he was seemingly becoming.

With a devious smile, he accepted himself.

He accepted his fate.

And he unknowingly accepted his role as Master of Death.

Death rewarded its master by fueling his transformation and with a pulse of power, years of malnourishment and abuse was corrected.

He grew to his father's height of six foot tall, he filled with cords of muscle and his glasses fell to the ground and shattered.

His hair blew in a phantom breeze showing a faint ghostly green crown hanging between his horns, before with pain and bloody viscera, leathery wings burst from his back; each capped with a deadly talon at the pinnacle of each wing….once and for all signaling that Harry was truly the Devil he desired to be.

Looking down to his hands which had remained largly the same with only his nails elongating to points, Harry smiled and was unsurprised to see bloody fangs had burst from his gums.

With a deep and humorless laugh, chilling even to him as he momentarily lost his sanity, Harry took for the window before him, burse through and with mighty thrust of instinct and purpose, Harry began to _hunt_….to plot the end of Voldemort once and for all.

Unknown to Harry, the paintings he'd left behind were rapidly spreading the tale of the Demon of Hogwarts and trying to raise the alarm of the staff.

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While experiencing the new sensations of flight under his own power, Harry lost himself to the sensations of the wind.

He closed his eyes and was shocked to find he could almost see with perfect clarity, yet the human lives he desired appeared almost infrared just beyond the tree line into the forbidden forest.

The wind whipping his hair seemed to fuel his resolve and aches and pains which had wearily plagued him before burned away as an unholy fire burned from his crown across his entire body momentarily.

In confusion he observed that his school robes, Draco's wand, and all that he yet possessed which had once marked him as Harry Potter were now gone…replaced with a wardrobe he didn't recognize.

Flying low over the still waters of the black lake, Harry was shocked to discover he was now dressed in a type of leather armor, with a layered and flowing black cloak with royal purple undertones, and a duel high neck collar.

Spiked cuffs, bracers, and adornments met him and in shock he gazed at the frightful visage of his new form.

In the back of his mind he was amused at what Hermione would undoubtedly say, and Ron fawning over how wicked he looked.

_A forest of thorns shall be his tomb. Form through the skies of a fog of doom! Now go with a curse and serve me well! Round Stephan's Castle, cast my spell!_

Harry felt a tug of power as the woman's words began to resonate within him, and looking to the lake once more he saw his eyes glowing their ethereal green, and he flew off into the night cackling evilly.

Meanwhile, Voldemort paced.

"Has there been a sighting yet of the boy?" he asked of his minions.

"Not yet my Lord," Bellatrix answered.

"I thought differently of Harry Potter," the snake man said slowly.

"I had thought he cared enough for the life of his friends and family to attempt to save them…I thought more of the _noble_and _brave_Harry Potter," he said before devolving into an insane laugh, as though he'd told the funniest joke in the world.

His followers cowered in terror, or flinched at his laugh knowing that his hubris could soon turn to anger and rage…and that meant pain and suffering for them.

Harry landed in the trees without sound, invisible, and realizing that his horns gave him otherworldly abilities, called forth a heavy fog to obscure his prey's vision.

As the minutes passed, the unearthly fog spread throughout the forest, and with a thought, Harry caused the roots of the trees to begin creeping, growing, and slithering toward his prey.

"My Lord the fog will not dissipate," Bellatrix cried worriedly as she attempted spell after spell to banish the fog and clear her vision.

"Potter! He is here," Voldemort seethed.

"I can smell him…"

"AH!"

"HELP"

"Something's got me!"

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

"_Secare_!"

"_Ventus!_"

And other spells were cast and people screamed as Harry, hand glowing with the same green fire, willed the chaos to continue as he began subdoing each enemy below until only Voldemort remained.

Banishing the fog he left behind a cocoon of tree roots which were slowly piercing the flesh of his servants and feasting on their magical blood, causing the trees to gain sentience.

Voldemort could only stare in confused horror as his followers were being felled to feed _trees_.

He stared in horrified fascination as the tree nearest him began growing a face similar to his devoted Bella.

He was revolted when in a burst of green light her cocoon vanished, and the tree face gave a shuddering breath, and his Bella's voice greeted him.

"Dearest Tom….won't you join us," she croaked.

"Join us Master," Avery called from near her.

"Join us!" Fenrir called.

Cocoon after cocoon vanished in the same display of light as true panic began to settle into Voldemort for the first time since his childhood.

This was magic beyond even him…this was magic darker than even he'd dared to pursue.

This was nightmare fuel made flesh.

The haunting laugh from above which seemed to echo through the trees and caused his fallen servants to wail in piteous moans cause Voldemort to startle and spin in fright….unable to pinpoint whence the devilish noise had come.

"What have you done Potter! Are you so stupid you've made a deal with the forces of Hell itself?!" he cried in outrage and fear.

"Have you damned us all to the inferno for your ignorance?" He called out hoping this was some illusion….but taking the Death Stick he cast every diagnostic spell he could, and none would show this to be an illusion.

This was beyond Potter.

This was demonic.

Panic truly began to settle in when Voldemort tried to apperate out but found he could not.

"We are sorry!"

"I'm so sorry!"

"Forgive me!"

The trees began to wail begging for the mercy of death as blood red sap began to pool and trail from their eyes.

Caught off guard by the trees wailing, Voldemort missed the landing and arrival of what was once Harry Potter.

"Forgive us Master; let us perish!"

"I'm sorry I killed your Weasley," Bellatrix sobbed. "Please end this torment. Every inch of me is in pain!" she finished with a piercing shriek.

"Bella," Voldemort said, almost compassionately as he walked to her.

"Your minions deserve no respite from their judgment Tom," a low voice said which Voldemort didn't recognize.

Turning swiftly, with a killing curse already cast, he was unprepared to see a blurred form take to the air….much too large to be Potter, and much too fast to be a rider on a broom.

"You've finally come to face me Potter?" Voldemort said with false confidence.

"You will die this day Harry Potter…of that rest assured. However, will it be as a man, or a coward?"

Voldemort began to search through the forest, leaving behind the wailing wood as it would come to be known.

"Face me!" Voldemort demanded as he went deeper and deeper into the black forest, the occasional light of a wand ahead the only sign he was following Potter.

An evil cackle would be his only response as his rage drove him forward toward confrontation with the brat-who-won't-die.

Finally, emerging in a glen in the depths of the Forest beside a lone willow which sat by a babbling brook, Voldemort saw his prey….and with a shout, the Death Stick once more sent the death curse to do Voldemort's bidding.

Voldemort was unprepared for the image of Potter to vanish, or for the wand to leap from his hand and fly into the sky as though propellelled by a rocket.

Still invisible, Harry caught the wand which quickly began to feed off the green fires and grew until it was a twisted and knobby staff.

From nowhere, a gem formed at the tip, which was wrapped in silver and gold metal which began to flow down the entirety of the staff, coating it protectively in places, strengthening it in others, and ending in a wicked point at the bottom.

The gem glowed with the same unholy power which had transformed Harry and set him on this path to end Voldemort.

_In all the land, in all of time, in all of magic there is but one Mistress of Evil….It is a mantle I neither wanted, nor aspired to; yet I embrace it. If a monster they believe me, then a Monster I shall be!_

The voice once more said as though standing next to harry and cancelling his invisibility he landed with a tremor going through the land across the stream from Voldemort.

Bathed in the pale moonlight, Voldemort saw first the crown of fire nestled between two horns, the wings, and then the glowing eyes of doom which met him.

The gentle pulse of power from the staff caught his attention as well and fully in fear for the first time since his childhood, Voldemort fell down to his knees.

"What are you," he almost pleaded…in the vain hope of knowing how to counter

"I am Lucifer made flesh;" Harry said stalking forward as he was overtaken by the green fire which had consumed him earlier.

The fire began pulsing in waves from him and seeping into the very ground he stood on, warping, morphing, and changing the surroundings.

The small willow before him began thrashing as though in a hurricane before it stilled, and _grew_.

Now towering over the entire glen the house sized tree began to glow with red light as runes of an unknown tongue were carved into its bark, and from its roots a door emerged…glowing in the night with a golden light.

"I am the embodiment of the powers of Hell," Harry continued oblivious to the changes his powers were causing.

"I am your end!" He said raising his staff and bringing it down with a mighty crash, wings extended, as a green wall of hellfire left him and swept the forest.

Voldemort was burned completely, leaving not even ash, and from the courtyard of Hogwarts his familiar, Nagini, and the last of his Horcrux, burned with the same hellfire which had overtaken him.

In Hogwarts, the survivors felt the aftershock of when to some was like a muggle bomb exploding, and elderly survivors were blown off their feet or unconscious by the waves of magical power rolling over them.

Arming themselves and preparing for battle once more, those yet living rushed from the great Hall to see the entirety of the Forrest seemed to be bathed in dancing green flames, and in the distance a mushroom cloud of the same fire rose ever higher into the sky.

Holding onto Ron and limping badly, Hermione furrowed her brown and suddenly screamed.

"Harry!"

Before rushing off to the forest and attempting to quench the fires in a vain effort to rescue her dearest friend.

The fires would eventually recede, but not in time to for the Hogwarts survivors to discover what happened this cursed night.

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Lost in the throws of the pure power coursing through him devouring his enemies, Harry was lost to the dark throws and pulses of magic as they escaped him.

So caught up in what he was feeling, truly _feeling_magic for the first time, that he failed to observe the door in the roots of the willow explode outward and a golden whirlwind of magical might overtake him, sucking both him and his green hellfire into the tree before shutting and sealing as the moon continued its trek through the sky.

For an eternity he fell.

Through realities, greatly detailed, vast, as well as horrifying and vague, until it became too much and he knew no more.

**Chapter 02. - Relics, Religion, and a Requiem**

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He awoke feeling the sun's rays bearing down on him and oddly enough the curious nip of some animal.

Waking slowly, he found himself on the shores of a vast lake in a verdant green valley.

In the distance he saw a castle, too small to be Hogwarts, perched high on a hill overlooking the village he could just make out in the distance.

He saw no roads.

He heard no cars.

The twittering of birds, the song of the trees, and the voice of the mountain winds blowing a cool breeze from their snow capped peaks were all that greeted him.

It was as though he'd fallen into a storybook painting….the scenery was that marvelous and _right_.

His senses sang to him that this was _safe_…that this was _home_.

He cast out his magic and concentrated on feeling his surroundings and felt an immediate pull toward the mountains in the distance which loomed large over the valley kingdom.

He concentrated until he focuses solely on the highest peak of a the largest mountain he'd ever seen in his life.

So distant was it, that he could see a snowstorm raging about the peak, lightening casting too and fro, and the base of the mountain a dark and foreboding green which promised to house the monsters of men's deepest fears.

Yet, the call rang strongly and beckoned to him.

"Home," he instinctively muttered aloud before, with an powerful thrust he soared into the air.

With a mighty flap of his wings he was lifted dozens of meters into the air, until he began to steadily climb with more determined thrust and a mad drive.

_Home_. _Home_. _Home_.

He thought and had as a mantra as his sore wings protested the speed and zeal of his flight.

In seemingly no time, no doubt aided by Magic, Harry was landing on the distant mountain top and walking through the deep snow, his robes insulating him from the cold.

He walked for what felt miles until he came upon the ruins of a tower.

Unknown excitement ran throughout his frame as he took his staff, and after some concentration, called out in a voice the same as the phantom which had called him to his transformation.

He spoke foreign words of power, in a language he instinctively knew.

Drawing on a power which he'd only recently come to embrace.

_Hidden secrets before me lie, ruined broken, cast aside; _

_Mend the walls, reverse the clock, reform, remake, stand proud Castle Rock! _

_From this spell this Kingdom Rise; Reform and Mend what once was prised._

_Servants long in slumber lie, arise, awake, return nigh!_

_From your pit I summon the, my teacher, tutor, and maker, Be!_

_Awake Mistress to teach me Hell, _

_Maleficent Arise and Serve me well!_

Dark Clouds formed over the mountain pass where the ruined keep lay forgotten.

A harsh wind blew and gale force winds stripped the dozens of feet of snow away from the area to reveal the charred skeleton of a once mighty fortress which lay hidden below.

The skeletons and mummified bodies of imps, men, women, and all manner of creatures took on an unearthly green glow as the magic summoned forth by Harry, fueled by his desire, continued to rain down in lightning, acid green rain, and the occasional streak of falling stars.

Fire and brimstone rained down, and with a massive quake the fortress, once shattered and irreparable, began to mend, reform, and rise ever higher into the night.

Corridors reformed, artwork was remade, sconces long since dark and frozen awoke with red fire and began warming the formerly frozen cavernous halls.

Magical creatures which had once served in the legion of the Mistress of Evil woke, alive once more, and began forming into their ranks to bow to their Master….called to service once more, and freed from the torment they'd been suffering.

They began manning the turrets, patrolling the yards, and staffing the ancient fortress whose name had long been forgotten.

The men and women entombed in the ice were freed, revived, and performed similar feats having sold their souls to the former master of the keep eons ago for some trinket or charm to ease their burdens in life in exchange for eternal servitude.

The Castle Forges once more caught alight, and for the first time in living memory the smithy was tasked once more with outfitting the castle guard and army of the damned in preparation for service to their Lord.

To the outside world, the storm which raged on top of Witch's Mountain frightened most.

The local nobles gathered in concern that the unnatural storm may be a portent of things to come, but none were prepared when the mountain top started shedding.

Glaciers began cleaving, and a frozen lake, once trapped beneath tons of ice, began flowing once more as the forgotten kingdom which had laid in slumber once more awoke.

The King's Mage, a wizened old soul who'd been but a young man centuries ago when the stories of _the foul one_had almost been forgotten saw the signs of significant magic, and began to fear that in his old age he'd be ill prepared to assist his King in protecting the people.

Before he took his concerns to the king though, he had research to do.

Finally, after several hours of magic literally coursing through him and into the surroundings, Harry was surprised to note that his new home was a hidden valley by a Deepwater mountain lake.

A forest, long petrified, was starting to show signs of life after his magic reconnected with the land, and the snow was swiftly melting to expose vast farmlands and what had to at one time be a busting village in ages past.

As he made his way into the keep's main yard and stables of the black walled fortress, he was impressed to see that tiny little beings, similar to House Elves but with spade tipped lizard like tails, were popping around and scrubbing walls, floors, streets, and stalls furiously.

Every time he made to approach one, it would scream in fright and pop away.

The inner bailey of the fortress was just as imposing as the outer, and as he made his way instinctively around the winding inner defensive walls, he eventually made his wat to what was undoubtedly the Great Hall.

As he stepped into the dark room, the candelabras, chandaliers, and fireplaces roared to life with an unnaturally red flame which illuminated the hall perfectly….no shadows were cast from the light.

The barren hall could easily seat 1,500 for a dinner service.

He admired the artwork and decorative carvings that spanned the entire space.

As his wings drug the cool checkered stone floor, he suddenly noticed the tap-click-tapping of his can had stopped and he'd ventured onto a deep red carpet which lead to the main dais, almost arranged in a mockery of that of Hogwarts, which loomed large in a semicircle over the hall, purple silk hanging form the rafters and a massive Black Marble throne, with purple leathered upholstery, immediately caught his gaze.

The throne was massive, built into the wall it seemed, and carved expertly to seemingly be a demon rising from the very pits of Hell.

Wings extended to form the entirety of the alcove this dais formed, and from each shaft of the wings a lesser throne was formed to allow the monarch a demonic council which would lord over those arrayed below.

In Enochian script, which he somehow could translate, Harry looked above the lesser thrones and saw Luvart, Olivier, and Verrier near the tips of each wing forming the third hierarchy of names.

Belias, Rosier, Oeillet, Carnivale, and Carreau formed the second hierarchy of names above more opulent thrones.

Finally he studied the opulent thrones and read the names of Soneillon, Gressil, Verrine, Astaroth, Berith, Asmodeus, Leviathan, Beelzebub, and some worry began to trickle into him at recognizing the names of the Princes of Hell from church school.

Finally, in shaped emerald, glowing golden script, he saw the most opulent throne…the throne which beckoned to him.

The name above it was for the King of Hell himself….Lucifer.

Each step he took closer to the throne, the ghosts of the Counselors of Hell took shape.

With resolve and head held high in accepting his fate, he approached the Throne of the Damned, even as the shades of souls filled the once empty Hall, eagerly anticipating the actions which were to happen next.

Looking left to right he saw creatures which should have given him nightmares….beings of eternal power which should have caused him to cower in fear, or run for his sanity or immortal soul…yet he pressed on.

"What manner of man is this that invokes this Counsel," one of the lesser demons spoke suddenly stopping Harry in his tracks.

Turning to face the creature, Harry saw that it was Olivier the merciless which had spoken.

"More pressingly, what manner of creature is he to be to have summoned us from our respective realms?" Verinne the impatient one called out.

"He reeks of Maleficent, yet she has long since slumbered in Tartarus before this one's reality was ever crafted," Leviathan looked on with amusement clear in his voice.

"Such a rarity to see one so able to wield the primordial powers as she did; but does he know what he's to become," the Prince continued.

With each passing heartbeat, the ghostly images of the demons before him became clearer….more solid.

Summoning his courage, Harry responded.

"He is right here," he replied in their cursed tongue, "and fully capable of answering your questions," he finished with a smirk as he propped onto his staff.

"Impossible!"

"Outrageous!"

"None but the Host can speak as we!"

And other cries of outrage met Harry's pronouncement.

"Silence," the voice of Beelzebub rang out.

Though he did not yell or scream the command in more than a normal voice, his words carried power and all ceased to speak as the ranking member of Lucifer's Legions rose to address Harry.

"There is a great and familiar power within you young one," he began slowly looking to the empty chair which would be reserved for their leader.

"Surely you jest," Astaroth called out, only to be silenced with a smoldering gaze from Beelzebub.

"She carried but a touch of his power, and shaped the course of worlds to come….he carries more, and is summoning us from the very void. Do you not feel his presence by this childe?" he roared in outrage at the ignorance of his fellow councilor.

"Lucifer has been missing for billions of years," Rosier, the tempter of men and father of the incubi and succubi, called out.

"We have scoured countless realities and have yet to find the Bright and Morning Star!"

Harry felt a presence as the assembly devolved into shouting and arguments.

_Pathetic_, the voice he'd heard at the beginning of his transformation said.

From the shadows, a form emerged, cloaked in power, and bathed in the same green fire which emanated from Harry's staff, a beautiful woman wreathed in black, with matching horns and sallow skin emerged; she could easily be mistaken as Harry's Mother based on her present form, even down to her nearly matching magical staff.

With aristocratic cheekbones, and high brow, her appearance silenced the assembly.

"You_pathetic_lot couldn't find a pole axe if it was buried in your rear! You think _He _would be found before he desires to be? This childe is a sign of things to come, and a prophet to lead us where I failed…" the being said.

"His lineage traces back to the very foundations of time; his magic sings the ballads of Heaven and Hell; can you not _feel _it," she hissed at the assembly.

Supremely confused, Harry watched on with interest.

Suddenly tired, and unnoticed by the assembly who'd devolved into shouting matches and petty squabbles, didn't notice he'd gone to rest on Lucifer's throne.

It was finally the diminutive, and oddly androgynous Carnivale, which drew everyone's attention to the sleeping form and the flaming crown which formed from the fire between Harry's horns.

Suddenly, a voice almost forgotten to time, but instantly recognizable by the assembly called out from everywhere, and nowhere:

_Teach Him. _

_Serve Him. _

_Protect Him. _

_Prepare Him._

_I watch. _

_I will Know._

_Do not fail me!_

In wonder the demons all began to fade away, as though banished, after being forced to recognize the sovereign before them; each scurried back to their own realm in order to prepare for the tasks set to them by Lucifer himself in the training and service of this….._boy_.

All that was left in the slowly repairing hall was the Mistress of Evil herself, filled with nothing but a sense of wonder, and a sense of dread as the implications of her task as she was the only being left which had been restored to a physical form.

"Oh bother," she said once more robed in flesh and no longer a specter to haunt her former halls and terrorize her lands as a shade of her former glory.

"It seems I have my work cut out for me," she said as she conjured the life story and history of the boy-king sleeping before her.

As the castle continued to fill with furnishings, fueled by Harry's magic and thus keeping him tired and asleep for several days, Maleficent watched and learned of the being she now knew to be Harry Potter and his life and misery at the hands of Mortal Wizards form several universes away.

Shocked to sense the machinations of death about her new charge, she was otherwise pleased to note he bore natural immortality along the lines of the Archangels of old, and her fallen Master.

She was unprepared to see the symbology of the Hallows, a universal sign and symbol predating even Enochian, tattooed to his flesh about his left wrist, signifying his link to Death.

"No wonder the child is so powerful…" she mused to herself as she laid finished bathing Harry's sleeping form on the 5thday and noticed the marking for the first time.

Seeing the child laid bare and helpless before her brought back memories….painful memories of her little beastie, Aurora, and the pain and betrayal she'd suffered from her all-but-daughter's husband killing her in his zeal to end Maleficent.

Blinking away tears, and fighting down the urge to vomit from the scenes which greeted her every waking moment in her own personal Hell, the Mistress of Evil blanched and attempted to tamp down the bile gathering in her throat by fueling her pain into rage at the _men_which had so wronged her and those she loved.

Having seen the life of her new pupil, one destined to rise above even her greatness, she couldn't help but sense a kinship with the former mortal which reminded her not only of herself and the innocence she lost with Stephon, but also the purity and grace which had embodied Aurora.

A chamber maiden, one of the humans that had formerly served Maleficent centuries prior, entered with fresh sheets and laundered linin small clothes to dress her new Master in.

As the wench went about her work, Maleficent cast her gaze into the fire and reaching out instinctively her magic manipulated the flames to show her the fate of Aurora's Kingdom.

Phillip, so _noble_and _true_, Maleficent scoffed at the notion, did unite the two kingdoms as originally envisioned by Stephon, but with the death of Aurora followed years of peasant strife, turmoil of the nobles, and finally revolt.

But there….the flames showed that just before Aurora was ended, a babe with auburn hair was snuck from the kingdom by those bumbling little sprites, Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather.

Focusing her magic and actively guiding the flames now, Maleficent saw the three go to the Moors once more, to the last great pool of magic, and sacrificing themselves and their magic, they opened a portal into the multiverse when swallowed the babe and detonated the moors leaving naught but a smoking crater behind which formed the basis of the massive lake at the base of the mountains below the present keep.

Highly intrigued to know that what befell of some portion of her precious little beastie, Maleficent poured her magic into the flame and observed the magic of the void filling the child, shaping her, changing her, and imbuing her with natural magic along the lines of Maleficent's natural abilities herself.

She was shocked to find the child discovered by peasants in a parallel world, and saddened to see she'd been executed as a witch after raising a young boy, the result of a rape, teaching him the secrets of her magic which she'd discovered, and with sorrow in her heart mourned as she was burned at the stake for being a witch.

The young boy, _Emrys_, a phantom voice carried on the wind supplied, went on to father dozens of children, and became a legendary figure in the world of Harry's origin.

She followed the prime line of direct male heirs until she saw three brothers confronted by The Death….and observed him shed a portion of his power to the three, and the last surviving male of the line laying in the bed behind her.

"Oh Aurora," she said with tears as she realized that her new student was the last living heir of her precious beastie…that the magic of the void had given him more power, if similar appearance, to her own origin as a Faerie.

After the wench left, the form on the bed began to stir.

In an instant, Maleficent was at the side of the bed and waiting for the prone form to wake fully.

With the flick of her fingers the curtains were drawn, the windows opened, and the balcony doors opened allowing fresh air and a cool breeze to enter the room, in the hopes that her charge appreciated the closeness of nature in the same manner she did.

Slowly coming to consciousness, Harry shifted involuntarily at the breeze which suddenly cooled him and upon waking noticed the form of Maleficent looming over him.

With a sarcastic drawl, he greeted his watcher.

"I've met you, but you have me at a disadvantage madam…I don't even know your name and yet, you're in my bedroom."

He rose to prop on his elbows as his wings shifted and folded to rest comfortably beneath him.

"My name is Maleficent….at one time I was the protector of these lands and the Rules of the Faerie Kingdom….but the folly of men saw to my end," she said mournfully and looked away.

"I am to be your instructor, your protector, and teacher as you learn your place in the ranks of Hell," she finished firmly.

"Rise and dress. Meet me in the courtyard in an hours time. I wish to assess your proficiencies with flight and magic. Bring your staff," she said indicating the Staff which sat propped against his bedpost.

Before Harry could ask a question she'd exited his room to the balcony and jumped off before soaring high into the distance and began rising above the clouds.

0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo

In the Domain of Hades, Greek God of Death and Lord of the Underworld.

"Oh come on!" the blue flamed windbag screamed as he threw popcorn and a hot dog at a wall sized flat screen showing the new England Patriots fumbling the ball at the last snap of the game, which the Packers picked up and ran in for a final touchdown bringing the final score of the game to 35-21.

"What's wrong your legubriousness?" Pain called out rushing to his master's side.

"These idiots can't do anything right!" he lashed out and continued to destroy things.

"I thought I told you and Panic to break Favre's arm!" he raged as his hair exploded in a rage and spread to his entire shoulder span.

Choking panic and lifting him to eye level as the imp choked and squirmed from his wrath the pathetic creature began barely speaking.

Anger abating by how comical he found the suffering of Panic to be, Hades smirked and taunted the creature.

"I can't hear you buddy….you really need to use your words better," he smirked before he dropped the groveling mess onto the floor.

"We did breaky the little Favreau's arm Sir!" Panic said coming in from a side door.

"Oh really? Panic, babe, come on…..how many eons are we going to play this little game where I tell you to do something, and you think you can get it balls up wrong, and then lie to me….really? …. The king of all lies and liars….its getting a bit **annoying**," he raged and burned panic to a crisp before he reformed form the ashes.

"But we got the kid!" Pain said with glee holding up a newspaper article.

Hades snatched it out of the hands of his inept minion and read the New York Post article detailing how an Andrew Favraue, an 11 year old pitcher for the Flushing Tigers Youth Baseball Team, had been attacked before a recent game by two adults which had resulted in a broken arm, benching him for the remainder of the season.

Not getting any further than that portion of the article, and slowly becoming enraged at the dopey smiles of Pain and Panic, Hades saw red.

Neither of the two saw their impending doom even as the paper began smoking.

"I had 100 large riding on the Patriots winning this year's SuperBowl….do you know how hard it is to come by that kind of scratch in the underworld," Hades began deathly calm.

"Ummm," pain and panic said as a literal river of lost treasures, gold, and precious gems flowed outside the den into the lake of plenty Hades had sculpted with the recent remodel of his palace.

Hades, catching their gaze, looked out the window and getting even madder raged on.

"It's harder than it looks you bufoons! I need all the wealth I'm due so I can influence the mortals and hopefully find someone competent enough to help me retake my rightful place on Olympus!"

"AHHHHH" he screamed and blew out the windows and sliding glass door of his revamped mansion and den leaving nothing but scorched minions and broken fixtures.

"Does that make you feel any better Hades," a rich and cultured voice asked unexpectedly startling the God out of wringing the unlife from the idiot servants he was cursed with.

Looking around in confusion he spotted a slender man with a simple black suit, a cane, and drawn gaunt face staring back at him.

"Death! Ol' buddy ol' pall…it's not time to reap Olympus is it," he said eyes darting back and forth in fear between the nearest exit and _the_embodiment of Death.

"As amusing as it is to see you squirm, I'm here for my Master's benefit," the cultured voice of Death began as he strolled about the room surveying the dirty trinkets that Hades had covered in the soot of his anger.

"Master…master?...MASTER?!" Hades cycled in confusion.

"I didn't know I'd been elevated to such a position, but here's what I need you to do babe….I got these bookies that have been hounding me," he said only to be cut of by Death's cane whacking him, hard, in the head putting his fire out.

"You're not my Master you sorry excuse for a car shark….I'm hear to summon the Council of Death to reclaim that which I gave you…each Pantheon holds a portion of my power….it's time it was returned," Death said sitting his satchel down.

"Woah! Death, old buddy, Old pal! You wound me….is it cold in here," he asked feeling his head and sensing his hair was out restarted it with a snap of his fingers.

"I'm glad you've stopped by and I'm surprised to hear you've finally got hitched, you really should have called me if you were on the market; I've got three lovely ladies that would looooove to meet you," he said ushering Death out of the room and up the stairs into his guest lounge.

"I'm wounded you didn't think to come by sooner. It's almost like you don't trust ol' Hades or think I'm a close friend."

Death started to speak only for Hades to cut him him.

"I gotta tell you man, it hurts…it really hurts to know that after all these eons…..after all this time, you're just trying to quit me like that. Caput! Nada! Sianara! Without even so much as a how've you been. You know Thanatos has been like a brother to me, and helps me out immeasurably maintaining the afterlife. He personally tends to the fields," Hades said pointing out the Elysian fields in the distance.

"Any my connection to your powers helps me keep this whole shebang in balance….and where would we be if suddenly your powers that you gifted to me or any of the other pantheons disappeared? Huh?"

Death once more started to answer but was cut off by Hades.

"We'd have the souls of the damned intermingling with the souls of the dearly departed, and utter chaos trying to stabilize…..how many afterlifes and pantheons," he asked slowly listing off Greek, Roman, Germanic, Norse, and all the other major religions which had dominated Europe.

"That's not even counting the African Pantheons, and God forbid you disturb those Maya bastards….they're just fucking crazy!" he said with a shudder.

"Some folks are best left to their slumbers, and right now babe, I gotta tell ya, if you disturb the balance as it is, then there's no chance in getting it back." He started leading death around by the shouldrers and eventually took him out to the lawn.

"What you've shared with us has been a miniscule, microscopic even, portion of your infinite essence…..what's the benefit of gaining something so small back and upsetting the entire cosmic balance?"

Death furrowed his brow and started to speak but before he could answer Hades prattled on.

"Exactly my friend!" Hades said faux punching Death on his shoulder and snapping his fings summoning Death's cane and bag.

"There's nothing you're more famous for than maintaining the great balance, and there's nothing more important to me than maintaining the role I play, small though it is, in mainaining the balance."

"I'm glad we've had this chat babe, we've gotta meet more often, but right now I've got a century's backlog of paperwork and a revived cult to start to help even out the rise of that Jesus guy I'm still dealing with; but whatchagonnado?" he finished with a nervous chuckle before entering his house and slamming the door, and locking it in Death's face.

Standing there holding his bag and cane in confusion, hat skewed to the side, Death once more grumbled about dealing with _Fucking Pagans_, before he disappeared to parts unknown.

**Chapter 03. - Education, Travel, and a Touch of Chaos**

0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo

Harry had been in this strange land under the tutelage of Madam Maleficent, for going on just shy of three months now.

The tutelage had not gone as expected.

It wasn't rare to find her raging at Harry, admonishing him for not properly focusing, and most annoyingly of all burning out so easily because he couldn't quite finesse how to power his spells.

While he'd excelled at the more mundane powers he'd already displayed, including that of transmogrification and shaping magic to thought, the more complex and higher arts eluded him.

"Enough!" She raged.

"If you are to take on the mantle I've left behind I've no choice but to go back and fix the foundational errors those mortal wand wavers instilled in you."

"What do you mean Madam," Harry asked with confusion riddling his face as they sat for supper one night.

"I've determined that you're hopelessly stuck with the mindset given to you by the wizards. The only way I can think to alter it is to send you back to give you a competent education while still maintaining your timeline," she said tapping her fingers along the table.

Harry stopped, spoon midway to his mouth.

"And how do you plan to do that Maleficent," Harry asked as power began to well behind his eyes.

"Obviously we can't go to your prime timeline….but certainly one of the close splinters," Maleficent replied sipping her wine…her own stew untouched.

Before Harry could raise additional protests, his world span, his eyes unfocused, and he and Maleficent were tumbling down….down….down through realities as his memories began to fade and his mind was overtaken with memories of another Harry Potter….one which didn't go _only_to Hogwarts to learn Magic.

0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo

Five year old Harry Potter woke with a start.

Aunt Petunia had sent him to bed without dinner last night because he'd turned the teachers hair blue….again.

"I swear to god boy that's the last straw….your Uncle and I have discussed the matter," she began first thing in the morning once he'd come down for breakfast.

He knew something was up when Dudley was conspicuously absent.

"As much as it pains us to _encourage_your abnormality."

"Unnaturalness!" Vernon chimed in.

"We've decided it's best if you went off for training among your own kind so you don't hurt us normal folks," she said as she passed him a colored pamphlet….an old looking one…that advertised simply, "The Academy."

Barely able to sound out the words, Harry looked up expectantly and somewhat petulantly at his aunt and uncle.

"You're sending me off then?" he said with scorn.

"Yes boy," Vernon began.

"Your age group can only stay at this school nine weeks at a time between terms, but for the most part you'll be out of our hair 36 weeks a year until you turn 8 and can go the full 46 weeks," he finished with glee.

Once more Harry looked over the few pictures showing an imposing manor, sweeping grounds, but what caught his eye were words like potions, calculus, alchemy, and enchanting.

"I still can't believe the _freaks_," his aunt practically spat, "somehow acquired Harlaxton Hall for this _school_."

"Who cares so long as the boy is gone," Vernon said rising to fill his plate with food before snatching the pamphlet from Harry and throwing it in the bin.

"They've been called and they'll be here shortly; you're to be on your best manners…am I understood boy," Vernon said looming large, eggs threating to spill, over Harry.

"Yes Sir," the boy said with a dejected sigh.

It was only a short time later, once Harry had completed the dishes that the doorbell rang, and Petunia, ever conscious of her image and social standing, went to the door to quickly usher in their _guest_.

She was not prepared to be greeted by the sight of a young, and handsome, man of Arabic descent, in odd robes with pointed shoulders and a crimson sash and cape to be standing on her doorstep.

"Greetings; I am Jafar from The Academy. You must be Petunia," he said with grace and charm extending his hand as he walked into the home and entered the small sitting room with a swirl of his cape.

"I am Petunia Dursley," she began a bit red in the cheek from thinking such devilish thoughts about the young man before her, "and this is my husband Vernon," she said as he entered from the kitchen.

"And this," he began as he pushed Harry front and center, "is the little miscreant we called about Mr. Jafar…Harry Potter. Go on boy, say hello to your teacher," Vernon encouraged with a false smile and threatening eye.

Bravely walking forward, Harry extended his hand and greeted the adult as instructed before dropping his hand and looking anywhere but at the man's eyes.

"Oh my; I can sense now why you showed up on our radar indeed young one," he said drawing a golden staff with a cobra's head, hood flared, and precious jewel encrusted eyes and running the flared hood over the crown of Harry's head showing the faint outline of Horns.

Drawing in a breathe he quickly stowed his staff whence it came to the shock of the Dursleys as it seemingly disappeared.

"Chance of plans Dursleys…. Mr. Potter is going to require extended tuition and will be immediately enrolled in our 50 week course, only being required to spent the two weeks prior to his birthday in your home," he said with a snap of his fingers as a folio of legal documents appeared along with an expensive looking pair of fountain pens.

"His scholarship details are enclosed, as well as his familia tuition assistance grant for the first 5 years of his scholarship," Jafar sneered as he drew the greedy muggles attention to the impressive sum of £55,000.00 per year.

"When will this be paid?" Vernon greedily asked.

"The entire sum will be made in three equal installments for the Fall, Spring, and Summer terms, the contacts just need to have an account number to deposit the funds in," he said flipping a few pages of to show the information sheet required by the Office of Financial Assistance and Scholarships.

Vernon quickly scribbled in his personal checking account information while Petunia finished signing away her rights to the School, assigning a Delegation of Parental Authority to Harry's Faculty Advisor, as well as ultimately the Headmaster/Headmistress of the school.

Once done the paperwork duplicated before the original vanished in a puff of red smoke.

"Wonderful," the man said with a sadistic smile.

"Come along young Master Potter; we're off to shop for your school supplies," he said fishing a small vial of a red liquid from his robe as he held out his other hand for Harry to take.

Tentatively, and cautiously, Harry took the stranger's hand without looking back.

"Good day then," Jafar said throwing the vial down and causing an explosion of magical red smoke which revealed to the Dursleys that neither he nor Harry remained in their formerly pristine, and now red sand covered, living room.

"Why the nerve!" Petunia shrieked as she went to fetch the vacuum.

0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo

They arrived with a small plume of smoke in the Gold Room, famous for its lavish apportions and in the designated arrival for all Jafar's retrievals.

Harry looked around in wonder at all of the wealth so casually displayed, the elegant and expensive looking furniture, as well as to the few students that were milling about already.

One of them, a small bushy haired brunette that was reading nervously in a chair by the fireplace which oddly lit for a day as hot as it was, but the room merely felt pleasant.

Seeing that she was the only other person close to his age in the room, Harry went over to the girl and introduced himself after Jafar had excused himself and asked Harry to remain in the room until he was fetched.

"Hello I'm Harry," he said sticking out his hand to the young girl.

The older student's didn't pay the interaction any attention.

"I'm Hermione," the little girl replied with a nervous smile.

"I'm reading Alice in Wonderland," she said eagerly as she began showing Harry the book and explaining everything that she'd read so far.

"I can't read a lot of these words yet," Harry said with modesty.

"That's ok!" she eagerly replied.

"I'll read to you."

The elder students got up and left after throwing the two a dirty look, and before Harry new it the two were alone as Hermione began reading to him.

They'd just made it to Chapter two of the book when an adult entered the room.

She was a gorgeous woman, undoubtedly one of the prettiest Harry had ever seen, and decked out in some of the most expensive looking furs Harry had ever seen.

Oddly enough she was clutching a long stem cigarette and smoking from it indoors.

Harry risked a look at Hermione who'd crinkled up her nose in distaste at the habit.

"Hello Darlings! I'm the Cruella De Ville, yes _that one_," she said as Hermione's eyes widened having recognized the name attached to several very expensive dresses and fashion items her mommy had gushed over in Harrods last week.

Harry looked on in confusion.

"I'm going to be one of your upper year instructors in financial management and business courses dearies," she said with a predatory smile.

"But that's a few years off yet for you both. Today I've been asked to help show you both around campus by our dear Headmistress," she said with barely perceptible sarcasm…but Hermione still caught it."

"How many students go here Miss," Harry asked politely derailing Cruella's prepared speech.

Numbers, facts, and figures immediately popped into her head as she recalled end of year estimates and reports from the second quarter in May.

"We have just under 150 full time students Mr. Potter, ranging in age from yourself and Miss Granger, to young adults working on Bachelor Degrees or Duel Masteries in both Magical and Nonmagical subjects," she replied proudly.

"Wow," Hermione said excitedly.

"Part of what I'd like to show you," she pressed on, "is what will be your classroom for the next year, and the professors who will be helping to give you a basic understanding of the core subjects."

"Which ones are those," Hermione asked eagerly as they began walking from the Gold Room through opulent hallways passing the occasional classroom where they saw a few students getting instruction from professors, teachers, lecturers, and others that ranged from oddly enough those in Pirate Dress, to Mr. Jafar that had retrieved them, and a room with a large water tank in which floated lazily a purple lady with tentacles.

"Those are classes reserved for professors who instruct in their natural affinities," Cruella began.

"The lady we just passed is Madam Ursula; Mistress of the Seven Seas and a powerful Witch in her own right. She teaches Potions, and the beginning classes of Alchemy."

"What about the man with the big hat?" Harry asked excitedly.

Looking back, Cruella laughed derisively and dismissively.

"That was Professor Hook. He coaches the sailing team, and instructs fencing," she finished with a laugh. "His husband is one of the administrative staff here at the school," she finished.

Harry thought it was amazing that the school had classes about sailing, boats and the ocean and was immediately hooked.

Hermione however was intently listening to the other classes mentioned.

"Does Madam Ursula have to stay in that tank," Hermione asked sadly.

"No child; that particular class is for advanced aquatic based potions; Madam Ursula can take on the form of a human anytime she wishes. Many of your professors posess the ability to change their biology at will," Cruella said offhanded as they continued down the hall, through a large courtyard and up a grand staircase into what was unmistakably a dormitory Hall.

They walked down one hall before they came to a T intersection, and a smaller staircase which they ascended.

"The youngest students start off in the smaller rooms in what were once the servant's quarters and as you progress one of your meritorious rewards will be more opulent and grand quarters, which are much more private in nature, she said with a s mile as they stopped at room 317, which held the name plate of three other girls along with Granger, Hermione J..

"You'll note your Dorm Mother is across the hall," she said pointing to a large apartment style suite that held the name plaque "Madame Tremaine."

"Her daughters are often visitors and guest lecturers for cosmetology and wedding planning seminars that we occasionally hold throughout the year for those interested in learning the skills," Cruella said as though she smelled something foul.

"If you should run across them they are to be _respected_and shown the same courtesies as staff," she groused before lighting up a new cigarette and seemingly calming after taking a few puffs.

The greenish yellow smoke lingered as though magically produced, and only vanished once Cruella began walking again.

"Go unpack darling, and Lady Tremaine will be along shortly to escort you and your dorm mates down to lunch," she said as she continued along the way and led Harry to a different section of the dorms, through a locked hallway, to where he and his mates would be.

"You were originally to have a three year mates, but one withdraw after discovering that we including nonmagical courses as core curriculum," she said with a sneer.

"You'll be rooming with my son, Carlos, and Jay the son of Professor Jafar, and potentially Harry Hook, the son of Professor Hook, if his parents choose to have him enrolled in our early program next Spring," she said with a smile as Carlos ran up to her and latched on to her waste.

"Come on now Carlos, I told you I'd be right back," she said with exasperation and hit her stem once more before mellowing out.

"Hello, I'm Jay," a tan boy with dark hair and a smile said as he rose from the bed where he was plating with action figures.

"Do you like soccer too," he said looking over his shoulder to the still photo of the Pharaoh's team captain kicking a game winning goal in the 1995 African Cup.

"I've never played before," Harry replied honestly.

"It's the best," Jay said as he went to get his ball from under his bed and began to drag Harry from the room, and call out to Ms. De Ville, "we'll see you for supper in a little bit Professor!"

"Go play with your new friends baby," she said shoeing Carlos along.

"Go on!" she insisted as Carlos had to run to catch up.

After Carlos had disappeared, she took another drag of her stem, finishing off her fag, and then with a tired exhale she muttered, "finally," before going down the nearest staircase to attend to paperwork and let the Headmistress know _he_had arrived.

0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo

A tired but happy Harry, Carlos, and Jay made their way back inside from the play fields with just enough time to wash up and head down for dinner in the Great Hall, and upon entering Harry nearly stopped in his tracks.

Expecting over a hundred people, he was shocked to see less than 50 students seated in comfortable looking tables, ranging in age from himself to no one older than 13.

"The older students normally eat in the State Dining Room," Jay said as he lead Harry over to a round table where they were shortly thereafter joined by Hermione and her roommates.

Introductions were made all around and Harry was startled to suddenly hear, from above the main entrance, a school band began playing what was unmistakably the tune "Zadok the Priest," as all the students rose as one.

Not knowing what else to do, Harry did as everyone else did.

Slowly faculty began to enter from the side entrances, and one after the other they took their place at the high table.

Cruella was at the far left, nearest Harry's table, while Professor Jafar was at the other.

Then came beautiful brunette, laughing the unmistakable laugh of Ursula, as she waves at a little girl smiling at her, followed by Mr. Hook.

On and on it went with the lady professor sitting on the left of the central throne, and the men on the right, until the main doors burst open, almost violently, and a figure robed regally in purples, blacks, and with long and wicked looking horns marched down the central isle.

The Teachers rose from their individual seats, and gave a Roman salute to the stunningly beautiful woman Harry observed which could be none other than the illusive headmistress….Maleficent, Mistress of Magic.

As she reached her seat, the music suddenly stopped, and her voice along rang out clearly and calmly.

"God Save the Queen," she said with a smirk.

"God save the Queen," everyone else intoned and the music once more began only to conclude shortly thereafter with fanfare and a trumpet voluntary.

"Be seated," she called as her fellow adults sat and the students complied.

"Before we break bread," she began with a smile to the children, "there are just a few announcements."

"Some of you may have noticed we have a few new students at supper with us this evening which did not join us for breakfast. Would Hermione Granger, Michael Dean Thomas, Michael Withrop, and Harry Potter please stand," she asked.

The few mentioned did so.

Polite applause greeted them as though standing were some great feat.

"Welcome to our family here at the Academy," the Headmistress continued.

"Tonight's supper is a selection of Arabian dishes selected by Professor Jafar. We will be having a mixture of Egyptian, Persian, and African dishes that are commonly found in his homeland, the principality of Agrabah."

Houselves in school livery suddenly appeared laden with trays of exotic smelling dishes, vegetables, soups, and meats which they floated into the lazy Susan at the center of each of the circular tables.

Others popped in laden with pitchers of juices, fruit infused waters, and several flagons of wine.

Harry was surprised to see his plate began filling itself based on his desire to try several dishes…a feat others were not experiencing.

Of the two crystal goblets before him, the larger filled with ice cold water, while the delicate and smaller was filled with a portion of the red wine the elves provided….this, thankfully, was not unique to Harry as he observed the elves filling several children's goblets with wine.

"Why didn't you tell us you were ranked already," Jay said with some awe and a touch of frustration.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said as he spooned some of the delicious smelling food into his mouth and savored the rich and exotic flavors.

"I found out the school ranks students into one of several categories," Hermione said excitedly.

"The lowest rank, is that of Initiate. Normally that's reserved for those into their third year of study, their first full year of magical study, but it can also be based on an individual's power levels."

"We have to have been tested for this before we can be ranked, and that normally won't happen until our third year," Jay said with a huff.

"One of the privileges of Rank," one of the girls by Hermione began, "is privileges…like elven wine with dinner," she said eyeing up Harry with something between admiration and scorn."

"It's supposed to help students study and focus more….it's imbued with magic, not alcohol," Carlos pipped up before nervously returning to his dinner and stealing glances at Harry, Jay, and Hermione throughout the rest of the Meal.

Harry was too engrossed in carrying on a discussion with Jay about some sport or another to really contribute anything and Harry found himself enjoying the chats he had with Hermione.

Before long the day had ended, and the groups broke apart to return to their dorms.

The morrow would start their first day of classes, and would see them learning the basics like English, Physical Health, Grammar, Classical Literature, Basic Mathematics, Basic Science, Beginner's Latin, Beginner's German, Beginner's Arabic, and Beginner's Russian.

It was a curriculum Harry was unprepared for, but adapted to well with the help of his friends…friends…what a wonderful thought.

Several weeks later, Harry was surprised to see that Hermione, and almost everyone at his dining table, were being given the elven wine.

What surprised him the most though was that he took to the subjects like a fish to water.

Where before his relatives had long since claimed he was a hindrance, worthless, and a lay about….he found he excelled at learning to read, to write, and especially the languages….even if the sciences and mathematics gave him a bit of trouble.

There was a fire burning within him…one which drove him forward…once which spread a heat throughout his entire body any time he was challenged, and with a bit of concentration, and thought, he could grasp the concepts quicker every time he truly applied himself.

He loved his German lessons with the Headmistress, and Arabic with Professor Jafar the most. They were the two most apt to use magic to instruct the class.

Professor De Ville taught them Latin, and occasionally gave a lesson the differences between the romantic languages, but she could make numbers seemingly do anything which amazed the young boy.

Her son was slowly coming out of his shell, and he seemed to have latched onto Harry as a best friend whether Harry was prepared for that or not.

Only time would tell how well the cohort would perform academically, but if the reputation of the academy was to be believed….they'd be more than just fine.

0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo

Time flew at the Academy.

It seemed it was no time before Harry was finishing his first year before he was briefly back at the Dursleys and then entering his second.

His marks were stellar, but ignored by the Dursleys for fear of Dudley shitting his pants in another rage. It seemed he was still in training pants which amused Harry to no end for some reason.

His third year Harry was shocked to discover he was not ranked an Initiate as he believed, but of the seven ranks, he was already the third rank.

The Academy ranked students according to the sacred heptagram of power.

The lowest level was Initiate, while the next was Apprentice, followed by Journeyman, then Scholar, followed by Sage, then Bachelor, before finally: Master.

Harry was thus surprised he already ranked as a Journeyman based solely on his power, which had assisted in his advanced training and access to the elven wines which helped his memory recall, retention, and cognitive development.

Hermione, bless her, followed shortly behind him after much work and studying and through sheer strength of will had ranked as a Journeyman in her own right through testing.

They were thusley allow more private rooms apart from the other students which shared a common study lounge.

Carlos was the most upset of his friends that Harry was moving out at the start of the year, and for half the semester didn't speak to Harry as though he'd personally offended the child.

For an eight year old Harry, and honestly every other eight year old at the Acadamy, their third year was to be the most fondly remembered….it was the year the students were fitted for their custom wands from the vaults of the school, hidden deep within the hidden and expended spaces that were reserved solely for the upper years.

The Academy, in certain circles, were famed for their hand crafted and custom bonded wands.

It was said one of the finest Ollivander's to ever have lived was a graduate of the Academy in the last three hundred years, and had returned to teach wand lore and crafting.

It was also said he gave his life in service to the school and remained in some form to guide future generations in their studies of his craft.

Harry neither knew, nor did he particularly care, if the old legend was true, but he was shocked to find Headmistress Maleficent calling him to her office on the eve of wand selection.

Harry loved the Headmistress' office, and thought it rather ingenious that she set up in the school's conservatory in the octagonal addition which allowed her ease of access to the magically expanded space and diverse biome of magical flora, fauna, and fungi that felt…._right_…to Harry.

It was a balance of antiquity, nature, and the modern world.

It was also a place he was unaccustomed to being summoned to.

He made his way through the winding paths of the enchanted room that resembled a forest and environment rich for the growing of several dozens of magical and mundane species of plants and their complimentary animals.

Harry heard the call of both Elk and Graphorn in the distance as he rounded the path that exited the conservatory "park" and entered into the more traditional octagonal office of the Headmistress.

"Young Master Potter," the cultured and regal voice of the Headmistress began, "always promt," she said just as the clock struck 7:30 in the evening.

"You called for me headmistress," Harry asked as he moved to stand before her desk.

"I did Harry; it's time something was returned to you. It will help you on your path to greatness….moreso than any mere wand ever could, and is part of your birthright my boy…but I must ask….are you willing to receive the consequences possessing it will entail?"

She moved to a dark ebony wood cabinet with chains securing the compartments with a large heart shaped and iron lock.

Hissing in pain, she grabbed the lock and turned to face Harry as he looked on in horror.

"Miss!" he cried making to stand before her eyes became golden and he forced to remain in his seat.

"Will you aspire to your full potential or will you remain myred in sentimentality and weakness boy!" she yelled through clenched teeth.

"I_will_be great," he stubbornly replied meeting her gaze and willing his magic to free her hand.

Finally she released the lock, and her hand began to rapidly heal.

"Just as I thought you would…just as we needed you to," she said almost too low for Harry to hear before she donned satin gloves, and took a key from a hidden compartment on her desk and opened the cabinet.

Harry had the briefest of glances inside, but in the dark cabinet he began to see an emerald green glow…as though familiar to him, seemingly calling from an endless abyss…drawing him closer….but before he could react the cabinet was shut, re-locked, and on the professor's desk now lay a small cane, just taller than Harry, similar in design to the Headmistress' own staff, but which had several veins of precious metal and jewels running throughout.

"What is this," Harry said feeling a tugging at what he knew to be his magical core.

With sharp eyes Maleficent observed and didn't respond.

"It's calling to me," Harry said extending his hand.

Before Maleficent could react, it rocketed from her desk and slammed into the preteen's palm as phantom wind tore through the office and lifted Harry from his sear.

Without warning, and without fear, green hellfire left from the gem of the staff and with an startled cry of anguish, Harry Potters body began to change…to morph, unknowingly once more, into that which he'd been prior to his regression to childhood.

Nubs of Horns began sprouting from his scalp, and with an anguished cry, small wings burst forth from his back as once more his clothing altered and changed to mimic that of the Headmistress, but for a male.

"I see a school of magic," Harry said in a deep and rumbling voice not his own, "the snake, lion, badger, and raven. I see…._weakness_…and false piety to restrain_power_….I see…_me_," he said faltering before his voice faded and with a clatter he crashed to the floor.

"Well damn," the headmistress said as she summoned an elf to take the child to the infirmary….there's no way hitting the desk as he did didn't give him a concussion.

0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo

It was 1990, and the 5thyear of Harry and his cohort being present at The Academy.

They'd all settled into their longest stretch of their education, that of being Scholars, which they'd remain until they completed their base education and began specializing in one or more branches of magic as Journeymen with the ultimate goal of gaining one or more masteries of a subject.

Harry's radical change in appearance was somewhat startling for his friends, but the Headmistress had explained to Harry that somewhere, in his ancestry, her bloodline had intermingled with his and her genetics had apparently been awakened by the magic of the staff melding to Harry's natural core.

"It's pretty cool the Headmistress is an ancestor of yours," Carlos went on and on about as he sketched new designs for custom cloaks, vests, and other suits that seemed to compliment Harry's growing frame….something that would be beyond a normal child.

Being the heir and only son to the world's leading fashion queen did seem to have some advantages for Carlos and his close group of friends.

Each of Harry's friends had begun to grow into their heritages, and just began exploring their magical traits or powers as Scholars, fully completed of a Muggle Education and now focusing solely on the higher mysteries and arcain arts.

It was a curriculum and course of study that challenged and encouraged, rewarded and punished, and which saw Harry Happier than Madam Ursula at a clam bake.

None were prepared for the whirlwind of activity that was to strike in July of 1991.

**Chapter 04. - No Means No**

0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo

Harry, living primarily on campus year round now, only saw the Dursleys for 14 Saturdays a year. He was surprised, and a bit alarmed, to see a letter addressed to his former residence appear in his mail bin, with a note attached explaining that a tracking charm had been removed and the contents screened for his safety.

Mr. Harry J. Potter

#4 …

Little…..

The Cupboard Under the Stairs

"Who could have known about that," he asked in surprise as he began caressing his horns as a means of stress relief.

He read the note from the Security Staff once more, as the academy only screened mail that the wards alerted to, and began reading of his supposed acceptance to "Hogwarts," a rather mediocre and provincial school dedicated to the weaker of the wanded arts and nowhere near the league of The Academy….there were several provincial schools lead by barely literate howler monkeys in the Kingdom of Oz that ranked better, as far as education went, than Hogwarts.

Taking out a bit of school stationary that bore his Heraldry as a Scholar, a reward for maintaining good marks that all Scholars received, Harry took out the fountain pen Jay had gotten him as a gift the second year they'd been together as he'd seen Harry struggling with quills the professors required they use to draft personal_Grimoires_, as Harry refused to call them homework diaries as Hermione did.

He began drafting his reply.

_Professor McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Scotland, UK_

_Professor McGonagall, _

_I write to inform you that I have no interest in transferring to Hogwarts as I am highly satisfied with the education I am presently receiving, and have been receiving these last few years. As I highly doubt my present Magical Guardian would approve of my transfer, I would kindly request you please remove me from your list. _

_I wish you all the best,_

_Your ever faithful servant, and _

_Respectfully, _

_Harry James Potter_

_Scholar_

_The Academy of Magic_

"There we are," he said folding the letter, addressing the envelope, and taking his own personal seal granted to him as a Scholar before sealing the envelop with magical wax the school provided to give the letters some basic protections they'd be able to properly cast once in later years.

Placing the envelope in the enchanted mail (out) box provided to all students, Harry tapped the tray with the crystal of his staff and watched as the missive disappeared to the house elves witch managed the rookery and would send the letter to Deputy McGonagall forthwith.

He conjured a copy of his reply, a skill imparted through conditioning of the elven wine as the students were able to develop a near perfect instantaneous memory recall, and affixed it to the original letter before filing it away in his personal correspondence cabinet.

Sometimes he wondered why the school insisted on such rules of etiquette…it all seemed to old fashioned and a useless skill.

He'd come to appreciate it intimately in the coming weeks.

Two days later, Deputy McGonagall received the reply and, after making contact with the Ministry's Department of Education, verified that The Academy was a registered school with the ICW fully accredited to administer WISE (Wizard Intercontinental Spell Equivilencies) and SMART (Spell Masters Arts Rituals and Trade) exams, en leue of OWL and NEWTs, she began the internal paperwork that would confirm Harry Potter was unenrolled for Hogwarts.

As the Wizengamot was in session Headmaster Dumbledore, trusting his Deputy, blindly signed all of the "Sign" pile of forms she'd left him without reading any, and filed away his first chance at trying to grapple Harry Potter back to the school his parents had attended.

0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo

September 01 dawned crisp and slightly cooler than normal for the inhabitants of The Acedemy, and brought with it the beginning of the fall term of their 6thyear for Harry and his cohort.

Harry was excited as this was the first day they'd be visited by a guest lecturer on ritualistic magic, only known as Hades.

"Surely it can't be _the _Hades," Hermione had argued endlessly with Carlos…well, as endlessly as two 11 year olds could.

"It has to be Hermione!" he clapped back.

"Mom gave me a small bag of golden Drachma, and some Greek wine in a gift basket to offer to the professor before class starts." He said with a smile pulling out the bag of coins from his desk drawer and showing Hermione as if that alone ended the argument.

"No fair!" Hermione said in frustration and slapped Carlos' leg when he began to laugh.

"We weren't able to prepare anything for the professor!" she pouted in outrage.

Her brow furrowed before she rounded on Harry.

"We've got to make a run to Paris Harry," she said running off to her room and returning shortly with a cloth purse Harry knew she'd gotten from Gringotts on one of their trips to the mainland.

Looking at the clock on the wall, it showed there were only 2 hours until classes started.

"Are you sure we won't be cutting it a little close Moine," he asked with a smirk showing one of his fangs.

Carlos caught himself staring at Harry again and forced himself to look away before he began trying to chat with Harry Hook and Jay.

"We won't be if you'll take me where I need to go now," she pressed holding out her hand.

With a resigned sigh knowing that Hermione wasn't to be budged on this, Harry snapped his fingers and the window opened, and he froughly grasped her hand before lifting his staff into the sky before he and Hermione were overcome with green and purple magical energy and flew off like a whirling dervish into the distance before rocketing off toward France.

"I hate when he does that," Jay said barely looking up form one of his sports magazines that Harry Hook was reading over his shoulder.

"I think it's better than portkeys…and more fun than a rollercoaster," Carlos said defensively as he sat back and pouted having been left behind by Harry.

"Oh get over it squirt!" Harry said noticing how Carlos had fallen into a funk. "He'll take you next time! You just gotta beat Hermione to it," he said with a smirk.

Carlos roughly gathered his things and was through the door before they could tease him any further.

0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo

Jay and Harry were the last to enter into the classroom of the visiting professor, and he was just about to shut the door when a swirling vortex of purple and green energy emerged from the center of the room surprising some pf the students that had never seen Harry's preferred method of long distance travel, when laden with a passenger, and were surprised to see Harry and Hermione emerged from the green flames unscathed bearing a pear tart tatin, and several expensive looking French wines and cheeses for their professor.

"Sorry we took our time Professor," Hermione said with an impish smile as she sat her wares down on his desk…but we wanted to make sure you were welcomed properly," she finished nudging Harry to hand over his basket of cheeses and wines.

The smoke cloak clad god, blue flames aflicker, interestingly began to examine the wines and wares of the two mortal before him…but something about the boy….bothered him.

"While I appreciate a good bribe girly goose, don't play so fast and loose with my time; capisce?"

"Woah….Hello," he said as he read the label on an vintage 1926 Chateau Cheval Blank Champagne, a bottle that was likely one of 5 left in existence, and which would likely fetch upwards of £50,000 for the empty bottle, caught his attention.

"How in the Styx did you get this girl," he said turning stunned eyes to the duo that were just sitting down.

"This has true age to it," he said hefting the bottle and scanning it with his sense.

"When one commands the higher mysteries," Harry began nonchalantly, "one can traverse the 4thdimension with ease."

Hades darted between the two, sat the wine down, and with disbelief sought clarification.

"Wait….hold on…time out," he said making a T with his hands.

"You expect me to believe that two mortals can travel through time, unaided by one of the 15 known magical artifacts that can do so, and which are _highly_regulated by International Regulatory Bodies?"

"What's easier to believe Professor? That Harry can warp time, or that we, mere preteens, were able to _acquire, _ that bottle from a Saudi Prince who maintained a poorly guarded Villa in Niece," Hermione asked with chagrin.

Snorting and laughing at the devious little cat before him, Hades began to clap.

"Bravo….you two get a free pass to my palace upon your deaths. I can tell I'm gonna like you both, he said as two glowing tickets emerged, slightly singed from blue flame, and were presented to both Harry and Hermione which they tucked away into their backpacks for safe keeping.

"What I'm going to be teaching you little scamps this year," he said as he practically gushed in Harry and Hermione's direction, "is the beginnings of ritualism. Specifically, I'm going to give you the basics on contacting the divine, or the damned," he said buffing his nails on his cloak.

With the snap of his fingers a complex series of diagrams in several languages appeared on the board.

"Can anyone identify what's on the board," Hades asked as he began his lecture.

Surprising everyone, Carlos' hand beat Hermione's into the air.

"Go ahead fur baby," he called out with a lecherous grin.

Somewhat taken aback by the reference to his mother's reputation, Carlos nervously answered.

"It's a ritual circle Sir; and from the inlaid alchemical formula, it's a devotional call for a response from any listening entity….I think."

Hades scrutinized the boy before returning to the board, looked over what he'd conjured up without forethought, and was surprised to note the boy was right.

"That's correct Mr. De Ville," he said gaining the boys name from his very soul.

"Let's see how far ahead you are," he pressed on.

"What type of entity is this going to serve as a clarion call for?"

Carlos studied the board for a moment, even as Hermione's hand lazily rose into the air.

"May I consult my grimoire sir?" Carlos asked nervously.

"You may," he amusedly replied showing off his shark-like and pearly white teeth.

Carlos retrieved his study aid and flipped to the section devoted to Hades' class, and found the notes he'd made on certain Enochian symbology, as well as Damned Dialects.

After a few seconds Hades began to tap his foot impatiently, and was just about to force an answer from the boy when Carlos answered.

"It will seek to summon not less than a 5thtier Counselor from the Norse Helheim," he said with a triumphant smirk as Hermione lowered her hand.

_How in the hells did I conjure up those pricks_, Hades mused internally as he once more studied the design.

"Alright kid; it's clear you know your stuff. Sit back, have a cookie, and let Uncle Hades finish his lecture now," he finished as with a snap a plate of the most heavenly smelling chocolate chip macadamia nut extra butter and soft cookies his mom only made for luring in new capital investors, or Christmas parties, suddenly appeared on Carlos' desk.

Hades looked on with amusement as the desire shining brightly through the faces of most other students, and basked in the glorious envy of others.

The only two he didn't feel sinking to the corrupting influences of jealousy, greed, and envy were Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.

_How odd_, Hades thought as he continued the lecture and had the children beginning the foundations for a ritualistic circle they'd complete by the end of the first quarter as a Midterm project.

0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo

As the day progressed, Hogwarts was abuzz with excitement.

None more so than the Headmaster, who eagerly awaited the sorting this year more than most.

As the staff finished their pre-term staff meeting, Dumbledore began humming…practically vibrating in excitement for the welcoming feast.

"Minerva," the elderly sage began just before his deputy could leave the staff lounge, "could you see to it that the Elves include a broader variety of desserts for the feast tonight….I want there to be a special selection in case some of our students would like to broaden their horizons and explore exciting new things," he said with his customary twinkle.

"Yes Headmaster," she dully replied before turning only to be stopped again.

"Do remind me what Lily and James favorite desserts were….we should have a selection of those waiting in honor of their memory for when young Harry arrives."

Stepping back into the room fully, and looking at Dumbledore as though he'd grown a second head, McGonagall dryly replied.

"What are you on about you old fool!?" angered he'd joke about something that had given her such sadness for several weeks of sorrow at the loss of the child of her two favorite students.

Sensing he'd said something profoundly wrong, Dumbledore quickly sobered and apologized.

"My dear Minerva I'm sorry….but what have I said? I just want to do something nice for poor Harry so he'll feel some connection to Lily and James….is….am I wrong to suggest that?" he asked genuinely confused.

Cycling through several stages of silent rage and beginning to fume quite loudly before forcing herself to calm, the normally mild mannered, if stern, professor had to tamp down the wrath of the highlander threatening to bubble over.

Slamming her stack of notes and files on the desk and marching to Dumbledore with purpose, she began casting stinging hexes left and right, catching Dumbledore off guard, and many found their mark giving him several nurples, and a horrible case of the hanging danglers.

"Good God woman what's wrong!" he said diving behind a couch for cover, striking his bad knee on the marble coffee table, and interestingly enough gaining a perfect map of the concourse for Washington-Dulles International Airport.

"Harry Potter declined an invitation to Hogwarts you old fool! You signed the paperwork acknowledging the rejection and filed it the same day….don't you _dare _be so cruel as to play as though that boy is coming here Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore!" Minerva raged as several glass objects, mirrors, and panes shattered in the room as she lost control of her magic.

"I told you those muggles were the worst sort and they've gone and sent the boy to that wretched Academy," she sobbed before she could stop herself.

The tears freely began to flow as she lashed out at Dumbledore.

"How many times did I ask you to let me visit the boy so he'd be prepared for his place?! How many times did I beg you to give me a pass through the wards to go and see _my little cub_!"

She exited the room absolutely wailing, papers forgotten on the desk.

"Fucking hells," Dumbledore cursed under his breath, but still loudly enough to be heard by the Portrate of former Headmaster Abbarella, who chastised him for his language.

0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo

Maleficent was doing _paperwork_of all things in her office, the bane of her existence in this face of a realm, when out of nowhere her danger senses began pinging and before she could react a phoenix had flamed in, deposited a letter on her desk, and flashed out.

Picking herself up off the floor and muttering curses and promises of a quick death to the messenger bird of Apollo, the was unsurprised to see a letter with loopy handwriting in green ink laying on her desk.

Flipping it over, she was further unsurprised to spot the Hogwarts Crest, specifically that of the Headmaster, and after a brief scan for undesirable spells, opened the missive and began to read.

With each line her scowl deepened until with an angry clench of her fists the letter began burning to ash.

"Take a letter," she called out as Diaval flew in and she transformed him once more into her personal secretary.

"What shall it say Mistress," he asked with a smirk having missed her encounter with the letter prior.

With a narrowed gaze, she growled out a warning to pay attention and dictate everything as she spoke it.

Once the letter was finished, it was sealed with her personal seal, and forgoing a raven she transported it directly to the Headmaster's desk without setting off the vaunted Hogwarts wards, and layered a very potent boil curse within her response.

Making haste to exit to the grounds she cut across the North lawns to get to the class she knew her charge, and heir, to be in at the moment in order to inform him of the not so subtle demands of the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and Chief Mugwump of the Wizengamot.

0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo

Dumbledore was just returning form the feast when he spotted a letter laid perfectly on his desk.

Checking his normal mail box and finding it empty, he summoned his personal elf, and older castle elf named Dok, and asked if he'd placed the letter there.

"No Headsir; Dok not cleaned today," he said with a slight bow before popping away.

"Strange," Dumbledore said as he examined the letter, unable to sense a magical signature.

He examined the seal, and was unfamiliar with any of the strange writing…the language being foreign to him surprisingly.

Opening it, he began to read what immediately became apparent as a response to his request of Headmistress Maleficent of The Academy.

_The Academy of Arcane and Mystical Arts_

_Founded: 1506_

_Headmistress: Lady Maleficent_

_Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore_

_Headmaster of Hogwarts School_

_Scotland, UK_

_Headmaster Dumbledore, _

_While I respect your titles, they neither intimidate nor impress me. Harry Potter has been a student of this Academy for over six years now, and to interrupt his magical education by even suggesting he meet with you to discuss Hogwarts would be highly counter productive to the safe and orderly educational environment we strive to cultivate here at the Academy. _

_With all due respect, his parent's desires will never be known as they're dead and are thus immaterial; while his last living relative(s), and current magical guardian, has worked closely with our staff to tailor Mr. Potter's Individual Education Plan to suite his unique talents and needs. _

_You will not be welcome to come and meet with Mr. Potter this Saturday as you have no prior attachments to the boy, nor have you actively been involved in his life, education, cultural heritage, nor civic engagements. I will permit you to correspond, care of my office, with Mr. Potter if you truly desire to continue to know the child of your former students._

_Mr. Potter does not have a place at Hogwarts as I know he's actively declined your invitation, and I received correspondence to that effect from your Deputy several weeks ago. _

_I will not react so kindly in the future to those which seek to interfere in __**my**__Academic Institution and harm the free thought and learning potential of my charges. _

_Do not tempt fate and poke the slumbering dragon Albus Dumbledore. _

_You've lost this battle. Don't lose the war. _

_Lady Maleficent_

_Headmistress_

_The Academy of Arcane and Mystical Arts_

_Dir; enclosures_

Smirking at the cheek and resolving himself to visit the school regardless, Dumbledore was about to write a reply when the letter flashed green, turned to ash, and he felt magic begin coursing through his body.

"What the devil," he cried before sharp pains began stabing at his ass.

"What in the Hells!" he screamed in fright, jumping up, dropping trou, and conjuring a floating mirror he saw row after row of painful boils had erupted across his ass and spelled out perfectly:

_Don't Cross Me Old Man_

He would spend several minutes casting counter curses to no avail with the Elder Wand before, with some shock and a growing sense of horror at what type of magic the mad woman could wield that would evade even the famed Death Stick, Dumbledore gingerly made his way to Poppy's tender mercies and at least an hour's worth of lancing and drainage by his estimate.

0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo

Harry had finished a rather fun day of classes, if challenging, the second week into Professor Hades' guest lecturing when he walked into his Room, Carlos in tow carring his bag for him, when the oddest sight greeted him.

An old man, wearing the most god awful robes, sat in a conjured chair in his study room which connected to Hermione's quarters.

"Who the Hell are you," Harry asked as he brought his staff to bear and pointing it at Dumbledore.

Slightly perturbed to see such a demonic child before him, but familiar enough with certain magical lines intermingling with creatures, and given the schools well known reputation for training any magical adept including those of creature heritage, Dumbledore didn't react to seeing the strange child before him.

"I'm sorry to have interrupted your study time," he began, "but I'm here to visit with Harry Potter…his parents were students of mine and I've not been able to receive a reply to several requests to meet through his Headmistress," he began laying on the grandfatherly charm and dialing up that twinkle he was so known for.

Feeling the slightest brushes across his mental barriers, Harry locked down his shields and with a his began sending lighting bolts of pure magic from his staff to banish the attacker.

"Summon Security," Harry called and with a wandless push, banished Carlos into the hall as Harry sealed the room with unholy fire causing small amount of panic to begin to rise in Dumbledore as he was unfamiliar with the dangerously dark magic the seeming child was casting.

"Now see here young man, I'm just trying to visit my ward!" Dumbledore indignantly called as he extinguished some of the fire, just barely managing to do so, with the Elder Wand and all of his concentration on the task.

"Your_ward_…._yours_…." Harry seethed as his fangs involuntarily descended and with a though laid a summoning circle for hellhounds in the space between Harry and Dumbledore.

Chocking on the vile magic being cast, and beginning to struggle to breath from both the constantly spreading flames and rapidly superheating air Dumbledore barely saw the circle, before he started casting stunning spells in an attempt to dispel the magic which seemed to be preventing him from dissaperating to safety.

"My boy I can't fathom why you'd be so made at me, or how you're so versed in the blackest of arts, but I'm afraid you're going to have to come at me for violating several conventions against Demonology as well as face an inquiry into your use of Dark Magic to seal this room," he coughed attempting to assert his control of the situation as he waved the Elder Wand in wide arcs, drawing the green flames from their position framing the doors and windows, and instead directing them into the hearth of the fireplace.

"How," Harry began to question as no one had previously been able to control his flames but Mistress Maleficent or one of the Pagans of Death.

"With time by boy, and enough will power, and with sufficient skill in magic….anything is possible," he said as he began rapidly firing off stunners, sleeping spells, enchanting everything objects about the room to transform and attempt to constrain the strange boy.

Harry batted most of the constructs away with ease, but as this battle grew longer, so too did Hary's ire grow greater. As his rage peaked, his crown…rarely seen in this lifetime, emerged once more, and the connection Harry shared to the interdimensional plane of Hell, Destruction, Damnation, Creation, Life, Death, Heaven, and _human hope_, swelled surging within his young body and forcing an unplanned growth spurt to meet the demands of the divine magic twisting, morphing, and consuming his body.

Before Dumbledore could do more than stop in wonder at what he was seeing, the wall behind the bookcase implodes, and blue flames began rolling into the scorched and damages room.

"Now, I'm all for a party kid, and normally I don't mind raising a little Hell on occasion," Hades said stepping into the room and surveying the battlefield before pinning his gaze on Dumbledore, "but it's raining blood outside and three of the four horsemen just popped up reporting for Duty, and I'm willing to bet my Cherry Corvette that Death won't be far behind," the slick talking deity began.

"Imp…..Impossibly! The Greeks faded ages ago," Dumbledore said with a trembling arm raised now directing the Death Stick, an artifact of the Divine, at who could only be Lord Hades…God of the Underworld.

"Well," he snorted, "that's where you're WRONG!" he screemed as he grew and red hot flames exploded outward throwing Dumbledore off Balance.

"Hi! Hades Lord of the Underword, how ya doin," he asked extending his hand with a mocking smile as he offered to help the mortal wizard up.

"What have you done to Harry!?" Hermione screamed as she drew her wand and finished the summoning circle Harry had started.

Before Hades could react and stop the magic, a portal had opened and a large female hellhound emerged.

"Oh great….one of _Crowley's_," he groused.

Dumbledore, unable to see the beast but clearly able to observe the bloddy tracks it left behind as well as smell the sulfur resultant from its summoning looked between the still floating deamon Child, to the little girl with the oddest looking want he'd ever seen, to the literal god, before calling for Faux and flaming out just as what he was sure was a Hellbeast lunged at where he'd been crouching.

"Go home…._now_," Hades ordered to the deformed and vaguely draconian beast….lacing power in his words the best disappeared with a whimper, before Hermione collapsed having tied her magic into the spell that would sustain and control the beast while on this plane.

"Yo! Hephaestus! Come down for a second babe….I need you ASAP. It's a code red. Code Red!" Hades called out for his nephew.

Before anyone could react, and just as the Headmistress arrived in a burst of green flame, nearly everyone was blinded by the golden light of a god's transportation and arrival on Earth.

"What is it uncle," the smithing god asked urgently.

The cosmic powers continued to cascade in Harry, which suddenly drew the attention of Maleficent who cursed and ran to him in an attempt to slowly bleed off his excess energies and swiftly close his connection to the greater multiverse from whence he was drawing his powers.

"DIAVAL!" She screamed.

"Take the children to the bunker at once. Hades, help me get Harry to an uninhabited island somewhere far from people."

"Get this school warded and protected up to my standards Nephew. I want it to have defenses that can protect from more than just wand wavers. I don't doubt your dear ol' dad will be petitioned to intercede on behalf of the Brits….get a move on it now. The full resources of my domain, and Death will be made available to you.

"Why doesn't someone explain to me exactly what's going on and why it's been so long since I last saw my Master," the calm voice of Death called from a corner of the room.

Everyone looked to find him propped against an overturned couch and eating, of all things, a Chicago style hotdog.

The absurdity of the situation caught everyone off guard, but Maleficent's command had been made and Diaval obeyed…activating a school wide alarm which signaled an immediate call to shelter in the bunker buried deep beneath the school which she'd installed to help protect the children from magical attack.

Hermione was ushered out of the room, as was the crying Carlos who'd been hanging in the doorframe, petite wand drawn and ready to cast some spell by the pooling magic barely contained at the tip, before Hermione and Jay forced him to go to the bunker.

He cried into the shoulder, and was carried by, Harry Hook.

Less than three minutes after the alarm sounded, a shudder rang through the school as the sheer weight of the iron blast door sealed shut.

With all the chaos and screeching of children just outside the hall, the man finished the last morsel of his hot dog before with unnatural grace he began walking over to his Master, still suspended in the air and overloading with his connection to the multiverse.

Looking disinterestedly to from the floating Harry, to the burnt remains of the summoning circle, to Hades _the _Death finally spoke.

"He wasn't meant to connect to the multiverse on this level yet….care to explain what happened _Pagan_?"

"Hey I tried to save the kid alright! I know what he means to me and the rest of us," Hades began to huff before Maleficent cut him off.

"Can you help me…please," she asked respectfully.

"How…quaint," Death said turning to look at her more carefully.

"The self styled Mistress of all Evil, practically begging another to help the son she always desired," he said before he raised his fingers and with a snap Harry fell limply to the ground as though a puppet with his strings cut.

"He's going to have a massive headache in the morning….he may sleep for a week," Death threw in as an afterthought.

"But he won't remember his connection to the multiverse. _I _am not ready for him to be so exposed….not when he's so _weak_." The entity practically spat.

Walking over to the demolished window he looked out into the lawn and saw his underlings….War, Pestilence, and oddly enough Conquest en leu of famine, he called out and banished them back to whence they came as it was not time for the apocalypse on this Earth.

"Pain! Panic!" Hades called out.

"Get the contractors up here; kid's gonna need a remodel on his room, and I want them to work with Hephy on upgrading this dump. If one wizard can challenge the protections of the Mistress of Evil, and her cohort of happy campers, I'm not going to rest until we upgrade this dump to being the most guilded, guarded, and protected turd in all of Merry ol' Englad," he said with finality before he flamed out.

"Take Harry and place him in the infirmary," Maleficent said to Coach Hook who'd been one of the first instructors to make his way to her as Smee handled the kids and less combat-adept instructors in the bunker.

"I had grown tired of War…." she began only to trail off before flamed away met with Hephaestus to give him access to the ward room and grounds.

0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo0oO0oO0Oo

Albus Dumbledore appeared in a flash in his office at Hogwarts, with smoke clinging to his robes and nearly coughing up a lung which he was sure had been scorched.

"Dok! Dok!" he wheezed out as the old elf popped in.

"Headsir! Yous' needing Poppy Lady!" called out and with in a fright popped Dumbledore to the Infirmary.

Several hours later, after being stunned by Poppy for trying to break away and screaming himself raw of "Harry" Poppy was finally able to get several burn salves, cremes, and treatments into his system and about his body before finally collapsing into a chair at his bedside.

Some of the magic clinging to the wounds was beyond the darkness she'd ever dealt with, and specialists had been called in from St. Mungos in order to treat the already blistering and festering burns the Headmaster had received over a goodly portion of his body.

He'd lost his eyebrows and all of the hair on the left side of his face…she'd had no choice but to shave him bald from head toe to ensure he didn't get an infected pore or patch of skin.

The experts form St. Mungos debated long into the night on which curatives, restoratives, and cleansers to use to help the beloved professor before settling on _all_of them in a tightly monitored rotation with the hopes that would clean all of the lingering black magic from him.

"Start him on a week of oral purgatives," had been he beginning directive.

"Keep him on bed rest for the next 30 days and under close observation. If there's any negative change in his vitals or magical index, summon us at once," the lead physician had called before stepping into her fire and back into St. Mungos.

That had been three days and 30 bedpans ago.

Who knew the purgatives would be so _effective_on the old man, Poppy mused.

After changing his bandages and prepping him for a pillow fluff, Poppy was unprepared for the professor to suddenly sit bolt upright and scream at the top of his lungs, "WE MUST SAVE HARRY POTTER!" before he collapsed once more and went into a magical coma as his body threatened to shut down.

Poppy barely had time to stabilize him and call for the healers to return when his vitals spiked indicating he was having a stroke.

She began casting every spell she new to stimulate the circulatory system and filter his blood of clots as tears streaked down her face while she awaited help .

"EPPY! Get all the elves and pop the healers back from St. Mungos….NOW!" she sobbed not realizing Eppy, a loyal and devoted elf, would summon all the elves of Hogwarts who would begin a crusade of gathering every healer from St. Mungos and bringing them to Hogwarts just as ordered: Now….no matter what they'd been doing prior.

* * *

*****To Be Continued*****

Author's Commentary:

This just wouldn't get out of my head until I wrote it out.

I think I can have fun with this convoluted little story.

This chapter is dedicated to Cameron Boyce who was a talented and aspiring young actor, taken before his time.

His work on the Disney Movies, Descendants, are part of what inspired his character (Carlos) appearing in this story, and hopefully serving as a worthy memorial to his craft.

A Note Concerning my writing style:

As I've said in prior stories, my style isn't planned writing….I go at this as though I'm watching an episode of my story, then try to faithfully transcribe my imagination onto the page.

It's rough, some is crass, and some is gross…just as is actual life.

Thank you all sincerely for playing in my sandbox!

Original Chapter Date: 07/08/2019

Polished Date:

Reviews are welcome, and appreciated. Please feel free to share this story file with your friends, chat groups, etc. I welcome all constructive criticism.

Page Count: 48

Word Count: 18,300


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